Running to Forget
by Ced2114
Summary: Ziva's experiences in Somalia have not left her unscathed; she deals with it everyday in her own private fashion. However it's getting harder and harder to forget what they did; it's getting harder to hide that she is slowly falling apart. Multi-chapter
1. Chapter 1

_Middle of the Night _

Her breath catching in her throat she sits up in bed gasping as the images from her nightmare seem to linger in the darkness. For a moment, she doesn't know where she is; her arms flailing she realizes that what her nightmare-muddled brain thought were restraints keeping her bound, were merely her sheets, tangled and sweat-soaked from her fear.

Cursing under her breath, Ziva David untangles herself from her sheets and simply breathes for a moment, her heart is still racing in her ears. Leaning forward she rests her clammy forehead in her hands and begins the calming exercises she has been taught. After what feels like an eternity but in reality is only a few minutes, she manages to peel open her eyes and immediately searches out the green illuminated digits of her alarm clock. It simply reads 3:16am. Cursing again, she reaches for a hair-band and, hands shaking, brutally ties her long locks into a ponytail. She is not going to be able to return to sleep tonight. Grabbing some workout clothes and her sneakers she dresses quickly, and heads out to her front room where she has a treadmill. Setting the machine on its most difficult workout she begins to run, hoping against hope that if she runs hard enough her mind will not linger on those months she would rather forget.

_7:30am_

She pulls into her parking space at NCIS headquarters, shuts the car off and checks her reflection in the mirror. Noting the dark circles that were beginning to become permanent residents beneath her eyes, she reaches into her purse, grabs some concealer and dabs it on in an attempt to make the circles less severe. Ever since Somalia, she has taken to wearing more and more make-up, not because she has suddenly developed a desire to paint her face, but rather as a mask against the world. She knows it's a frivolous act, and cowardly, but at least it minimizes the visible evidence of the many sleepless nights she was experiencing.. Without it, they would know she was not okay. Taking a deep breath she puts her make-up away, braces herself and heads into work, her haven against the stresses that were tearing her apart.

As she enters the bullpen, she notices that DiNozzo and McGee are both already at their desks.

"Ziva!" Tony calls out with his trademarked grin, "If I didn't know any better I would swear you're late!"

"Then it is good that you are not swearing, is it not?" She replies, while pulling her purse over her head and dumping it on the file cabinet next to her desk. "Do we have a case? I did not expect to see both of you here...I am not in fact late: you are early."

McGee looks up from his frantic typing on his keyboard, "Gibbs called us in at 0200. Apparently, a marine kidnapped his three year old daughter, right out from under the mother's nose."

"For what reason? Do we know?" Ziva begins to cross over to McGee's desk in an effort to see on his screen what he was so intently working on, when the voice of Gibbs interrupts her travels.

"Unknown at this point, grab your gear!" Immediately all three agents run to their desks, grab their badges, guns, and backpacks and race after Gibbs, Ziva only just making it before the door of the elevator closes.


	2. Chapter 2

Running to Forget: Chapter Two 

**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to Bellisarius Productions and CBS Studios. I own nothing.

Reviews are welcome, thanks for reading!

As she enters the elevator, the car keys come flying toward her,

_ "_David, you're driving."

"Uh, boss? Is that a good idea?" DiNozzo interjects, "Cause last time Ziva drove..."

"Tony! It was not my fault that..."

"Enough." Gibbs quiet command immediately puts a stop to the impending squabble.

"Thank you, Gibbs." Ziva says.

"Oh, don't thank me David, I didn't stop it for you."

"Yes, Gibbs." With Ziva's last words, the elevator opened and they headed out to the car. Ziva, in the lead, let out a quiet sigh; it was times like these when she felt closest to normal, or at least as normal as she had ever felt.

As the team arrived at the crime scene, Ziva found herself momentarily struck by the home they encountered; it had started out life as a simple cape home but over the decades had been added on to in several directions. Every part of the house was in good shape, the only anomaly was the driveway, whereas everything else seemed to be shipshape, the driveway was cracked and broken with little sign of attempted repair. The team swiftly exited the vehicle as Gibbs gave out assignments.

"McGee; photos. DiNozzo; interview the neighbors. David; with me."

To a chorus of "Yes, Boss!" the team dispersed for their assignments. Grabbing the camera, McGee started taking photos of the perimeter of the property, Tony moved off across the street with a notepad in hand, and Gibbs with Ziva headed for the front door.

The woman who answered the doorbell clung tightly to a ragged teddy bear, her eyes red-rimmed showed evidence of the many tears she had shed.

"Can I help you?"

"NCIS Ma'am," Gibbs flashed his badge. "Are you Isabelle Shapiro?"

" Yes, yes I am."

" Agents Gibbs, and David, may we ask you some questions?" Gibbs' voice was gentle.

Shaking her head as if to clear it she opened the door"Yes, of course, I'm sorry it's just--"

"Perfectly okay ma'am." Gibbs responded. Leading them into a formal parlor Isabelle motioned towards the couch,

"Sit where you like, can I get you something to drink?"

"No thank you ma'am." Wearily she perched on the edge of a well-stuffed armchair.

"Ma'am, you reported your husband Captain Steve Shapiro kidnapped your three year old daughter Marianne?"

Silently nodding her head, Isabelle clutched the teddy bear closer to her body.

" Do you have any idea why your husband would commit such an act?" Ziva asked her softly.

" None!" Choking back a sob, Isabelle continued "None at all! We were a loving family, Marianne loves her Papa, I don't even remember the last time Steve and I had an argument!"

"How is it, that you know your husband is the one to kidnap your daughter?" Ziva continued.

"He left this--" putting the teddy bear down, Isabelle stood up, and picked up a sheet of loose-leaf paper from the side table. "It's definitely his handwriting, I would know if it wasn't."

Gibbs promptly pulled out an evidence bag, "Ma'am, would you mind placing the note inside this bag for me?" Holding the bag open, he motioned for Isabelle to place the note in the bag. "Has anyone else touched this paper other than yourself?"

"Not that I know of, it comes from my husband's office." Gingerly she pushed the letter until it was completely inside the bag. Gibbs promptly sealed it and signed the outside.

"Does your husband have a history of mental illness? Depression? Anything like that?" Ziva continued.

"Not that I know of, we've been married five years and I haven't seen even a hint of something like..." Isabelle's voice trailed off.

"Ma'am?" Gibbs' prompted her.

"Well--" Isabelle looked thoughtful, "at the beginning of our marriage he would wake up in the middle of the night and start to pace, whenever I asked him what was the matter, he never responded--it stopped after about six months."

" Did he ever say anything when he got up in the middle of the night?" Ziva inquired.

"No, he just got up, and started pacing. If I asked him anything he would tell me to go back to bed." Nodding Ziva jotted some notes.

"Has your husband experienced any extreme stresses at work that you know of?"

"We were informed last week that he is being deployed to Afghanistan at the end of the month. He wasn't very happy to hear this. He's managed not to be deployed for the whole length of our marriage."Locking eyes, Gibbs nodded silently to Ziva.

"Mrs. Shapiro would you mind showing me to your husband's office?" Gibbs' asked.

"Sure, just uh—follow me this way." Swiftly Ziva and Gibbs followed to distraught woman. As they walked towards the rear of the house, Ziva spotted the bathroom.  
"Ma'am, if it is all right, may I use your bathroom?"

Motioning with her right hand, Isabelle nodded vaguely as she continued to lead Gibbs' down the hall. Quickly Ziva entered the bathroom and began to open cabinets. She wasn't expecting to find anything, after-all most people kept medications and the like in the bathroom closet to the bedroom, and in this particular house all the bedrooms were strictly on the second floor. Even so, it was always a worthwhile endeavor to see what was kept even in the 'public' bathroom of a private home. Noting various cleaning agents, extra stores of toilet paper and soaps, she closed the cabinet doors and then casually opened the trash can to find nothing. Flushing the toilet and running the water in the sink, Ziva exited the bathroom and headed towards the sounds of voices.

Upon entering the home office of Captain Shapiro, she assessed the rooms contents. Starting with the floor she noted the worn hardwood floors, raising her eyes, the wood-paneled wall on which hung several frames of photos and two small paintings. Finally, she noted the furniture, a large executive style corner desk; a laptop and printer centered on its surface, a recliner, and a leather couch. At Gibbs' silent inquiry, Ziva subtly shook her head, in a negative to his unspoken question. After examining the contents of the missing Captain's desk the two agents headed out to the car to meet up with the other half of their team.

Exiting into the bright sunshine Ziva winced, for a moment, blinded by the sun, emerging from the previously unnoticed darkness of the house, she felt her heart skip a beat and her breath catch in her chest. Suddenly she was back in the desert. A strong hand gripped her forearm, then as if from a long distance away she heard Gibbs voice.

"Ziva? What's the problem?" Shaking her head rapidly from side to side, she came back to herself. Still squinting in the bright light, she tried to cover "I just realized that there were no lights on inside the house, the sun took me by surprise."

Grunting in acknowledgment of her words, if not her actions, Gibbs picked up his stride to greet the other two agents. He would talk to her later, she knew it would only be a matter of time. Taking a steadying breath she followed in his wake, tucking her trembling hands into the depths of her NCIS windbreaker. Hopefully the adrenaline coursing through her system would subside before she had to do anything that would require she remove them.

"DiNozzo! Find anything interesting from the neighbors?" With Gibbs attention elsewhere she was able to continue to calm herself down before the other two could pick up on her shaken state.

"Boss! You won't believe what I found out!" Grinning, DiNozzo looked as cheery as a child in candy store. At Gibbs' sharp look he cleared his throat and put on a serious demeanor. "Apparently, our missing Marine has a tendency to make his neighbors uneasy; he's been known to use the backyard as a shooting range..."

"And...?"

"Just wait boss, _and_ apparently, many of the neighbors beloved pets have been known to be recipients of the more than occasional bullet in the hind quarters,

"You mean to tell me, he shoots his neighbors _dogs?" _Ziva found herself interjecting before she realized it. She couldn't quite keep the skepticism from her voice.

"Yup, and some cats too. There are more than a half-dozen lawsuits from the neighbors from the last 18 months alone around this fact."

"Just what would the Captain gain from shooting his neighbor's dogs?" Ziva's voice was incredulous.

Suddenly McGee piped in, "Wait, Tony? When did the first lawsuit get filed?" he looked intent, a small furrow forming between his brows.

"Uh, give me a moment," DiNozzo flipped through his notes, "I've only got info for the last year and a half."

"Hmm."

"Uh—McHummer? Why?" DiNozzo's voice held a note of annoyance.

"Don't know yet." He said shortly, "Boss? I need to get to a computer." Gibbs just looked silently at his junior agent, a question in his eyes. McGee continued "I've got a feeling that if we find out when the first lawsuit was filed, there will be additional information that will be helpful."

Nodding, Gibbs held out a hand"Okay. David? Keys, now." Tossing him the keys, Ziva ignored the questioning look from Tony, and headed around the car to take a seat in the back.

"Boss? Why isn't Ziva driving?" Ignoring DiNozzo's question for the moment, Gibbs opened the driver's side door.

"DiNozzo, get in the car unless you want to walk back to the Navy Yard." Shooting Ziva a questioning look, Tony dived for the shot-gun position before McGee could beat him to it. Ziva simply opened the rear door and got in. She knew she would not get out of talking to either of the men before this day was over, the only concern she had, was what would she say?


	3. Chapter 3

Running to Forget—Chapter Three:

_Late Afternoon_

The hour-long car ride back to DC had been filled with DiNozzo antics that on a good day would have caused her to contemplate a variety of ways in which to kill him, but today she simply rolled her eyes and stared out the window in silence. At one point she had glanced up after a particularly loud vocal interjection from DiNozzo, unwittingly locking eyes with Gibbs as he glanced worriedly in the rear-view mirror at her. Shaking her head subtly she hoped Gibbs would leave it be for the moment.

Upon returning to the Navy Yard, McGee immediately went to his desk and began accessing database after database with DiNozzo hovering over his shoulder. Ziva locked her gun away in her desk and headed towards the ladies room, hoping that she could get there without being waylaid by her boss. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gibbs maneuvering away from his desk, quickening her pace she almost made it before an arm appeared at eye level in front of her, cutting off her approach. Letting out an exasperated sigh she turned to look into the face of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Yes, Gibbs?" Arching an eyebrow, attempting to put up a strong front, Ziva struggled to keep her breathing under control, it would only be a matter of a few more minutes before she would no longer be able to do so.

"Ziva, you are not okay."

"Gibbs, whether I am okay or not is none of your business at this time." With those clipped words Ziva ducked under his outstretched arm and dodged into the ladies room hoping he wouldn't follow. As she groped blindly for the nearest bathroom stall, she heard the door to the bathroom shut behind her, followed shortly thereafter by the click of the lock hitting home. Shutting the bathroom stall door she locked it, and then, leaning against the wall, slid to the floor, her knees held close to her chest by her trembling arms as she desperately closed her eyes waiting for the tidal wave of memories to crash over her conscience. Tears began to run down her face as image after image of Saleem torturing her, of metal heated to red hot intensity burning her skin, of Saleem's men tearing her clothing from her body, of them using her body in ways she would never tell a soul, came crashing over her consciousness in relentless wave after wave. Vaguely she heard the unearthly sound of someone keening, it took her a few minutes to realize that the person keening was her. The moment passed, and Ziva gradually came back to herself as she registered the coldness of the tiled wall at her sweat-soaked back, the industrial fluorescent lighting common to any government building, the bright color of the walls and floor surrounding her, and then, under the wall of the stall she saw the familiar brown combat boots that could only belong to Gibbs. Cursing to herself Ziva began to push off the floor while leaning against the wall, but her legs had turned to jell-o during the flashbacks.

"Don't." Gibbs' softly spoken word halted her attempts at getting up immediately.

"Why?' Ziva's voice held a faint note of challenge, why shouldn't she get up? Why was Gibbs there at all? Why hadn't he left her alone. Why was he still here? The sound of running water was her only answer. Then, from underneath the stall she saw his feet walk across the bathroom and pause beside to door to her refuge. Dumbly she examined his shoes, they were well worn, but there were no visible scuff marks.

"Are you going to open the door?" Her momentary reverie ceased at Gibbs' carefully spoken words. Silently she reached above her head and undid the latch. As the door swung open, barely missing her knees she felt herself flush in embarrassment. How could she have let this happen? She had thought she had it all under control! Not only had she lost it, she had lost it AT WORK, in FRONT OF GIBBS. She wondered how long it would be before she was expected to pack up her desk and leave NCIS. As her mind started running around in circles her attention was caught by Gibbs sliding down and sitting on the floor next to her. Silently he held out a paper cup full of water. Her head tilted in puzzlement, why was he handing her a cup of water? Gibbs' brilliantly blue eyes were full of compassion as he continued to hold out the cup.

"Drink this."

Numbly Ziva reached for the cup, she half-expected him to pull it away, but all Gibbs did was make sure she has a firm hold on it before he let go. A few more minutes of silence passed before he spoke again.

"You talking to anyone?"

"No." Slowly she sipped her water.

"Are you going to talk to anyone?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What good would it do? It happened. The fact that it happened will not change. I am fine."

An uncharacteristic snort escaped Gibbs. "Yeah, sure, you're definitely fine, in fact, you're so 'fine', you're sitting on the floor of the restroom soaked in your own fear-induced sweat because you like it. You. Are. Not. FINE."

Wincing at Gibbs' words she took a deep breath. "Maybe, I am not 'fine' but I am functioning, I am doing my job, does anything else matter?"

"Ziva" Gibbs hesitated before he continued, "I can't even begin to imagine what it is you went through in Somalia but I'm pretty sure the external scars are only the beginning. You need to talk to someone."

"And lose my job?"

"Who said anything about you losing your job? NCIS may be a civilian agency but there are more than a few of us who are former soldiers, and as former soldiers, there are more than a few of us who have needed to talk to someone because of our past experiences." Gibbs sharply looked over Ziva, her breathing had calmed, the paper cup was forgotten, crumpled in her hands, her coloring, while paler than her usual was closer to normal. "Get up, I'm driving you home."

"But-!"

"Now." Gibbs' tone held a note of steel in it. He held out a hand, careful not to broach her personal space too much, patiently waiting for her to reach out and take it. Hesitantly she reached for his hand, and before she could blink, Gibbs' had pulled her to her feet. In the back of his mind Gibbs noted how very light she felt. The Ziva he knew was petite but solidly muscled, pulling her to her feet Gibbs mentally chastised himself for not noticing that she had never regained the weight that captivity had melted from her body.

"We're stopping for a steak first." With those simple words Gibbs led Ziva from the restroom.


End file.
